


The Fight

by PinkBlossom



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkBlossom/pseuds/PinkBlossom
Summary: Is an argument over drycleaning everything it seems to be?
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	The Fight

A/N Mainly Angst with some Fluff

T/W Mention of illness and death

Rating: Teen

‘You promised you’d pick up my dry cleaning. Was it really too much to ask?’ you moaned as you put your bag down and kicked off your shoes.

‘Something came up,’

Of the few words Jethro uttered daily, those were said more than any others and you were sick of it; sick of being way down on his list of priorities. He was sat at his kitchen table, case files surrounding him. Every conversation you seemed to have with him these days seemed to be a fight or at least, the start of one; sometimes he just point-blank refused to bite. A quick look in the kitchen confirmed there was nothing ready for dinner, causing you to huff loudly. Jethro had seen you looking and deduced what the problem was.

‘I’ll go pick us up some food, go get a shower, I’ll be back by the time you’re ready,’ he promised, picking up the file and heading towards the door.

But you were too angry to listen to reason. To you, it was just another excuse.

‘Forget it, I’ll go home and get a shower,’ you spat, making your way back towards the door. Jethro caught your wrist, you struggled against it, but he held it firmly.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, calmly.

‘I’m fed up of being so far down on your list of priorities. I’m surprised you remember I exist Jethro.

‘Are you really this pissed-off that I forgot your dry cleaning?’

‘STOP TRVIALISING ME,’ you scream.

He looks you in the eyes, narrowing his own as he tries to locate the source of your anger. You exhale loudly.

‘What’s really wrong? You’ve been bitching about petty stuff for weeks now. Things that don’t bother you most of the time. C’mon, talk to me.’

You shake your arm free from his grasp and put your shoes back on. There’s a hitch in your chest that’s betraying your anger. You don’t think you can say another word, so you slam the door behind you and storm to your car. Throwing your bag on to the passenger seat, you fumble with the key and it falls on the floor. It’s enough to make you lose it. You grip on to the steering wheel as a massive sob leaves your chest. Resting your head on your hands, you’re not in control of emotions anymore. You’re crying so hard you barely register that Jethro has opened the door and is coaxing you out of the car and back into the house. He’s practically taking all your weight as he sits you down on the sofa. He stays with you, sitting beside you and stroking your hair as you bury your face in his chest. You both sit like that for an hour before you finally lifted your head and gave Jethro a weak smile. You’re almost too embarrassed to speak but he smiles back and makes you feel at ease.

‘I’m sorry,’ you mutter, looking at his now wet shirt.

He shrugs, gently running his roughened palm over your blotchy face, the very hint of a smile on his silent lips.

‘What have I told you about apologies?’ his smile more formed now.

‘Those are your rules,’ you quietly assert. ‘And I’ve not been honest with you these last few weeks.’

Jethro’s poker-face his legendary, but he still flinches slightly at your words, fearful that soon he’s going to have reason not to trust you. He stays silent, you know he wants you to do the talking but you’re not sure you have the strength. The problem is, you can’t walk away from this conversation now you’ve started it and following your complete meltdown; he doesn’t deserve that. So, taking a deep breath, you steal yourself to tell him what you’ve avoided telling anyone over the last few weeks.

‘My sister called me three weeks ago. Said our Mom dad been a bit poorly for a week. She’d taken her to the doctor for tests and well…’

You paused for a moment, swallowing hard at the lump in your throat.

‘It seems she has cancer. They can only offer her palliative care.’

Jethro exhaled loudly. ‘Don’t you wanna go and see her?’

You shook your head. You’d not really spoken about your family dynamics with him and given that he wasn’t really forthcoming with his own personal information, it was never something that had been questioned. All he knew was that you’d left Minnesota when you were 20 and you’d not returned since.

‘She doesn’t want to see me. We had a huge falling out when I was in my teens. I’ve tried to patch things up a couple of times, but she won’t. My sister tried 3 weeks ago and she still said no.‘

Those strong arms surrounded you and you let your head rest on Jethro’s shoulders.

‘I should have just told you instead of being horrible to you for the last few weeks but I couldn’t being myself to say the words and it’s just all so complicated.’

Running your hand along his arm, he puts his face closer to your ear

‘If you want to go. I’ll take you. If she won’t see you then at least you I’ll be there with you.’

The fullness in your chest lighted a bit with his words. You sank your face in to chest, feeling safe in his arms

‘And you are always on my list of priorities but sometimes you’ll have to come second to work, that’s just the way it is. But if you need me, I will be there for you. Always.’


End file.
